Ber. Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever! Ber. Although before the folemn Priest I've fworn, I will not bed her. Par. What? what, fweet heart? Ber. O my Parolles, they have married me : I'll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her. Par. France is a dog hole, and it no more merits the tread of a man's foot: to th' wars. Ber. There's letters from my mother; what the import is, I know not yet. : Par. Ay, that would be known to th' wars, my boy, to th' wars. . He wears his honour in a box, unseen, That hugs his kickfy-wickfy here at home; Ber. It fhall be fo, I'll fend her to my house, Where noble fellows ftrike. War is no ftrife Par. Will this capricio hold in thee, art fure? I'll to the wars, the to her fingle forrow. Par. Why, these balls bound, there's noise in it.- A young man, married, is a man that's marr'd: [Exeunt. Enter Ber. I do affure you, my Lord, he is very great in knowledge, and accordingly valiant. Laf. I have then finned against his experience, and tranfgrefs'd against his valour; and my state that way is dangerous, fince I cannot yet find in my heart to repent: here he comes; I pray you, make us friends, I will purfue the amity. Enter Parolles. Par. Thefe things fhall be done, Sir. Par. Sir? Laf. O, I know him well; I, Sir, he, Sir's, a good workman, a very good taylor. Ber. Is fhe gone to the King? Par. She is. Ber. Will fhe away to night? [Afide to Parolles. Ber. I have writ my letters, cafketed my treasure, given order for our horfes; and to night, when I fhould take poffeffion of the bride and ere I do begin Laf. A good traveller is fomething at the latter end of a dinner; but one that lyes three thirds, and uses a known truth to pass a thousand nothings with, fhould be once heard, and thrice beatenGod fave you, captain. Ber. Is there any unkindness between my Lord and you, Monfieur ? Par. I know not, how I have deferved to run into my Lord's displeasure. Laf. (17) You have made fhift to run into't, boots and fpurs and all, like him that leapt into the custard; (17) You have made shift to run into't, Boots and Spurs and all, like him that leapt into the Cuftard.] This odd Allufion is not introduc'd without a View to Satire. It was a Foolery practis'd at City-Entertainments, whilst the Jefter or Zany was in Vogue, for him to jump into a large deep Custard: fet for the Purpose, to Set on a Quantity of barren Spectators to laugh ; as our Poet fays in his Hamlet. and out of it you'll run again, rather than fuffer question for your refidence. Ber. It may be, you have mistaken him, my Lord. Laf. And fhall do fo ever, tho' I took him at's prayers. Fare you well, my Lord, and believe this of me, there can be no kernel in this light nut: the foul of this man is his clothes. Truft him not in matter of heavy confequence: I have kept of them tame, and know their natures. Farewel, Monfieur, I have spoken better of you, than you have or will deserve at my hand, but we muft do good against evil. [Exit. Par. An idle lord, I fwear. Ber. I think fo. Par. Why, do you not know him? Ber. Yes, I know him well, and common speech Gives him a worthy pass. Here comes my clog. Enter Helena. Hel. I have, Sir, as I was commanded from you, Spoke with the King, and have procur'd his leave For prefent parting; only, he defires Some private fpeech with you. Ber. I fhall obey his will. You must not marvel, Helen, at my course, On my particular. Prepar'd I was not To you that know them not. This to my mother. [Giving a letter. "Twill be two days ere I fhall fee you, so I leave you to your wisdom. Hel. Sir, I can nothing fay, But that I am your most obedient fervant.. Ber. SCENE changes to the Court of France. Flourish Cornets. Enter the King of France with letters, and divers Attendants. King.TH HE Florentines and Senoys are by th' ears; Have fought with equal fortune, and continue A braving war. I Lord. So 'tis reported, Sir. King. Nay, 'tis moft credible; we here receive it, I Lord. His love and wisdom, Approv'd fo to your Majefty, may plead King. He hath arm'd our anfwer; And Florence is deny'd, before he comes: 2 Lord. It may well serve A nursery to our gentry, who are fick King. What's he comes here? Enter Bertram, Lafeu and Parolles. 1 Lord. It is the count Roufillon, my good lord, young Bertram.. King. Youth, thou bear'ft thy father's face. Ber. My thanks and duty are your Majesty's. First try'd our foldiership: he did look far And bow'd his eminent top to their low ranks; In their poor praise he humbled: Such a man Might be a copy to these younger times; Which, follow'd well, would now demonftrate them But goers backward. Ber. His good remembrance, Sir, Lies richer in your thoughts, than on his tomb; So in approof lives not his epitaph, As in your royal speech. King. 'Would, I were with him! he would always fay, (3) So like a Courtier, no Contempt or Bitterness Were in his Pride or Sharpness; if they were, His Equal had awak’d them.- - This Paffage seems fo very incorrectly pointed, that the Author's Meaning is loft in the Carelessness. As the Text and Stops are reform'd, these are most beautiful Lines, and the Senfe this" He had no Contempt or Bitterness; if he had any thing that look'd like "Pride or Sharpness, (of which Qualities Contempt and Bit"terness are the Exceffes,) his Equal had awak'd them, not “his Inferior; to whom he scorn'd to discover any thing that "bore the Shadow of Pride or Sharpness." Mr. Warburton. (Methinks, |